


Blood, sweat, and tears.

by bellax_xmuerte



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Drunkenness, M/M, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 14:58:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3696626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellax_xmuerte/pseuds/bellax_xmuerte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt fill - #11: things you said when you were drunk</p>
<p>Harry should have come home sooner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood, sweat, and tears.

**Author's Note:**

> Also available on my tumblr:  
> http://nataliescourageclub.tumblr.com/post/115695958602

You’re on the floor, hands covered in spilt lager and spilt blood. Shards of angry glass surrounding you like sea foam. No one has noticed, no one but me. The music is too loud, the corner you fell over in is too dark. You’re just another drunk boy on a Friday night; to them, you’re nothing special.

I help you off the floor, the glass crunching beneath my feet. You look angry. You wipe your bloody hands down the front of my shirt. I say nothing. That annoys you. You shout, ‘I fucking hate you!’ as loud as you can. I don’t have to hear the words, I can see them in the way your face twists before you storm away into the sea of people.

I watch until you’re lost in the crowd, then I follow. I should have come sooner. And I don’t mean to this club. I mean, I should have come home sooner. I should have let you know that the bullet hadn’t killed me. But I can’t go back. I can only go forwards, through the crowd.

When I find you, you’re dragging an equally drunk young man into the toilets. The boy hasn’t noticed the blood, even though it’s running to your elbows now and dripping off your fingertips. I follow you both. I push the door open. You have a hand down the other boys jeans. I just want to take you home and stop your hands from bleeding.

‘Eggsy..’ I say, and it’s the first time I’ve heard a human voice in over an hour. You ignore me completely, your lips on the other boy’s skin – sliding down the sweat on his neck, lingering behind his ear, running across his cracked lips.

‘Eggsy—‘ I try. You only ignore me again. The young man looks up though, he can’t pretend I’m not there. Eyes unfocused, mouth stupid. He says, ‘Fuck off old man. You some kind of perv?’

You still then, you pull your hand from beneath his waistband, the young man misses you, he reaches down, cups your groin, you jerk away, push him hard in the chest. Hard enough to wind him. You still haven’t looked at me. The boy notices your blood then, he looks surprised. He glances at me before he says, ‘You know ‘im? I’m not fucking someone old enough to be my dad.’

‘Fuck off then!’ You shout viciously, venomously, and the young man scuttles away. He hadn’t expected your temper. I had. I know you too well. I wait for the door to close, then I walk towards you. I open my mouth, ready to apologise, but it falls shut when you hold out a hand, blood running down your shaking fingertips. You want to speak. I want to listen.

‘I fucking hate you.’ You spit then, your red eyes burning into mine as you stumble forwards. Clumsy. Hurt. Drunk. ‘You fucking left. You let me suffer. You left me alone, Harry. You left me! You were supposed to be the one good thing in my shitty little life. My one good thing. You were supposed to fucking love me! I fucking hate you. I hate you! Ya hear me?! I FUCKING HATE YOU, HARRY.’ I stand there. I take it. I deserve this and more. Much more. I know what I’ve done to you. I know what I’ve done.

I try not to cry, I try not to fall apart as you reach out, grab a fist full of my hair, tighten your grip and say, ‘So, why do I still love you? What the hell’s wrong with me, Harry? Why do I still love you?’


End file.
